


Codename: Hammer

by MagicTrashCan



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston Fandom
Genre: But here it is, Established Friendship, F/M, Fake Dating, I'll put cws at the top of smutty chapters, also fake dating but for real dating?? these two are so messy???, also they sex is a little......kinky, following their lives from Thor and on, okay not as slow burn as I thought, past history, slow burnnnnnnn, these tags may change bc I'm not ENTIRELY sure what this is doing, they're a big mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-06-15 02:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15402993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicTrashCan/pseuds/MagicTrashCan
Summary: Michelle Banks dreamed of being an actress all her life, and she thought that getting an education in the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art was a sure fire way to give her the edge one needed when trying to make it in Hollywood. And after years of low paying, low visibility jobs, she finally catches the break she needs. Unfortunately, that throws her into the path of an old friend she shares a history with. This job is the biggest break of her career, and it just got a lot more complicated.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the messiest, most self-satisfying sandbox. I'm satisfying my love of Marvel and its casts, AND Tom, all in one go. I have no idea where this is headed, but hey, here we are.

**2005**

Mel staggered out of the pub, still laughing at the joke her friend had finished as she walked away. The air that night was blessedly devoid of the moisture London was so famed for, but the chill that stood as a replacement was biting enough to make her wish for it. She shivered and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as she dug into her pocket for her smokes.

No sooner had she fished them out and gotten one lit than the din of the pub was released into the streets for a moment. She turned to see who had followed her and smirked. “Need to bum one?” she asked, holding out the pack with an eyebrow raised.

Tom only rolled his eyes and smirked back, nuzzling deeper into his own scarf and burying his hands in his pockets as he walked over. “You know better.”

“Never hurts to tempt you.” She winked and stowed them away. “And seeing your reaction will never _not_ be funny.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He bumped her hip with his, or near as he could, with her being a half foot shorter. “So.”

“So.” Mel bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment, grateful she’d worn flats, and glanced up at him.

“We really did it, huh?”

She laughed and it echoed back to them off the near-empty street. “I fucking hope so.” She inhaled again. “I’m bloody sick of you Brits.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “And I’m sick of you yanks coming in to steal our education.”

“You’re just mad because my marks we higher in improv,” she gloated, blowing some smoke in his direction, but not enough to actually affect him.

“You’ll never let that go will you?” he chuckled.

“Not on your _life_.”

They stood in silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of the occasional car or the burn of her cigarette.

“Where are you off to, then?”

His tone was flat, a kind of control to it that she recognized form their classes together. “Home, of course. Try my hand at Hollywood.”

“Mmm,” he mused. “I see.”

“Congrats on _Unrelented_ , by the way.” She dropped the cigarette and stepped on it, then turned up at him and beamed. “You’ll be brilliant.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, but she sensed the tightness in it. “It should be interesting. I’ve never played a character like him before.”

“You’re you. That’ll make it incredible.”

“I hope so.”

She shifted on her feet, waiting for him to add anything to his statement, but he seemed determined to stare off broodingly into the distance. “What’s wrong with you, Tom?”

He blinked at her and quirked his head. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re full of shit. We took the same classes, Hiddleston, I know your tells.”

He held her gaze for a few moments. She didn’t flinch, despite the combination of his eyes and the cold being particularly unsettling. If classes had taught her nothing else, it was how to not give into charming, handsome faces 101.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Mel coughed. “Excuse me?”

“When you leave, I mean.” He kicked at a mound of slush and ran a hand through his curls, which had become sufficiently wind swept.

“Yeah, I gathered that.” She scrunched her nose, both in response to the cold and his words. “It’s not like either of us is dying. We can keep in touch.”

He stepped closer, into her space. She bit her lip. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I gathered that, too,” she sighed, now craning a bit as she looked up at him. His eyes had gone soft and sad, the first genuine expression he’d allowed her since coming outside.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” He lifted a hand and brushed some of her errant hair behind her ear, brushing her cheek in the process.

She held her breath, wishing her discomfort came from a desire for him to stop, and not a desire for him to continue. “Not particularly.”

“Why not?” His hand still lingered on her cheek, fingers only barely brushing it, and even that touch was beginning to warm her all over.

“Because,” she huffed, shaking her head, and in turn brushing off his hand. “There’s no point to it. You’re here, I’ll be there, and neither of us need complications.”

“What if I want them?”

“I don’t,” she snapped, then shook her head again and straightened her glasses. “Fuck’s sake, Tom, can’t a few good nights and laughs be enough?” His face was crestfallen and shadowed. “No, don’t look at me like that.” She stepped toward him again and placed her hands on his cheeks. “I care about you, Thomas, I really, really do, but I need to focus on myself and my career now, and you should too.”

There was a hair’s breadth of a pause, and she almost thought he was leaning in to close the gap, but it must have been her imagination, because he didn’t.

“You’re right.” He gave her a sad smile and placed his hands on hers, then kissed one of her wrists. The touch shot fire across her skin. “You’re right. As always.” When he released her hands, the careful mask she had come to know was back in place, charming and open as ever. “Can I buy you a pint at least? We’re celebrating, after all.”

She grinned and slipped her arm around his waist. “Of course. The night before graduation and photos and speeches? I want to get properly smashed.”


	2. Hammer

**2009**

_Incoming Call from **Unknown Caller**._

Mel frowned at the bright screen. It was barely past midnight in LA. Based on the number, the call was from England, but of all the people she knew, this was not one of them. “Hello?”

“Mel! Sorry to call so late. I had great news, and needed to call immediately.”

“I mean, I’m still awake, so it’s fine.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Who is this?”

“Luke Windsor. We spoke the other day? About me representing you?”

“Shit,” she murmured, running a hand over her face. “Sorry, I forgot to save the number. Umm, I thought I told you I was already being represented.”

“That is absolutely correct. And if I’m remembering right, I told you you’d be better off with me.”

“Mmm.” Her head throbbed with every word he said and her lids felt heavy. “I remember that as well. I appreciate the offer Mr. Windsor, but I still feel that my current representatives are doing a fine job.”

“I disagree. I think you are far too talented to be booking sidelong typecast characters in romcoms and three or four episode specials on poorly written sitcoms.”

Mel laughed. “I’m glad you think so highly of my career. On that glowing note, I think I’ll–”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but please don’t hang up. I mean to say, in those roles you lit up the screen and filled those characters with life, no matter how poorly written. Your education, your natural talent; you deserve better roles.”

“Hollywood is like that Mr. Windsor. It’s a hard industry to break into.”

“Please call me Luke.” She could hear the charm oozing into his every word. “And it doesn’t have to be this hard. I can prove it to you.”

She laughed again, a hearty and honest one this time. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“I have a lead on a role you would be perfect for, sent to my agency. It’s a Marvel film.”

Mel sat up straight. “What?”

“You heard me. Have your representatives not heard anything about it?” His grin practically screamed through the phone.

She pursed her lips and ignored his question. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I have confidence in my ability, and yours. So much so, I will call the studio as soon as we’re off the phone and schedule the audition. You don’t even have to sign with me. _But,_ if you get it – I’d love to have a longer discussion on the matter.”

“You’re willing to waste a lead on someone who isn’t even your client?” she scoffed.

“You’re right for the part. And you’ll get it.”

She picked at a thread on her throw blanket. Why hadn’t George told her Marvel was holding auditions? When was the last time George had even sent a lead her way that didn’t make her immediately feel exhausted?

The screen on her desk lit up, catching her attention.

“I just sent over the info.”

“I–”

“Call me again when you get the part. And please, save my number this time.”

“Right.”

“Good luck, Ms. Marks.”

 

Mel bounced on the balls of her feet and tried to calm her thundering heart as she reread the script.  _Hammer_ , as the codename. She’d already signed two NDAs, with potentially more to come. Not to mention having seen, already, four other actresses leave their auditions, two of whom she easily recognized. It was enough to make her want to–

A short woman wearing plaid, a headset, and holding a clipboard stepped into the hallway. “Michelle Marks?”

Mel folded the script into her pocket and straightened. “Yes, uh, hello.” She grinned and stepped forward. “Mel, if you don’t mind.”

The woman had a pleasant smile. “Right. This way, Mel.”

Behind the door was an empty space the size of a broom closet, with another, more ornate door across from them. Mel swallowed down her bile and attempted to look collected as she followed into the room.

Which served to be nearly pointless. Kenneth Branagh sat behind a small rectangular table, with two producers she vaguely remembered from events she’d attended in the past. Two chairs were arranged in front of the table, one of them being filled with a large blonde man.

Branagh stood first, smiling at her and holding out his hand. “Ms. Marks, a pleasure. Please sit.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” she said with an undisguisable grin, following the directions and sitting next to the blonde man.

“I’m assuming you’ve had enough time to read over the exert?”

“Yes, plenty.”

“Perfect. This is Chis Hemsworth,” she shook his extended hand and returned his smile, “and he’ll be reading as Thor, while Kate and Jason here will be reading the other roles. Do you need the script for this?”

“No, I have it.” She tapped her temple and half smiled.

“Wonderful,” Branagh nodded with a smile of his own. “Take it away, Kate.”

The producer cleared her throat and began, “Thor smashes plates out of two servants’ hands, causing a massive clatter. He proceeds to roar and flip the table covered in an ornate feast completely upside down. Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun enter as he does.”

“Redecorating are we?” Mel asked Chris, turning her head slightly and arching one brow, letting a smile almost play at her lips.

“What’s this?” Kate continued as Volstagg. “I told you they’d cancel it.”

“I thought you were just being your normal cheery self,” Jason cut in as Fandral.

“All this food,” Kate said, then mumbled, “[mumbles]…just cast to the ground. Breaks the heart.”

“It’s unwise to be in my company right now, brother,” Chris said, his taking on a timbre of importance and arrogance all at once.

“Who said I was wise?” asked Jason as Loki.

“This was to be my day of triumph.”

“It’ll come, in time. If it’s any consolation, I think you’re right. About the frost giants, about Laufey, about everything. If they found a way to penetrate Asgard’s defenses once, who’s to say they won’t try again? Next time with an army.”

“Exactly!” Chris boomed.

“There’s nothing you can do without defying father.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, stop, I know that look. Stop right there,” Jason chastised.

“It’s the only way to ensure the safety of our borders!” Chris shouted, nearly startling Mel.

“Thor, it’s madness.”

“Madness?” Kate cut in as Volstagg. “What sort of madness?”

“It’s nothing,” Jason read as Loki, “Thor was merely making a jest.”

“The safety of our realm is no jest,” Chris interrupted, with all the seriousness and righteousness you’d expect from a centuries old god. He looked at them all and smiled. “We’re going to Jotenheim.”

“What?” Jason laughed, reading Fandral’s line.

“Thor,” Mel began, leaning toward him and furrowing her brow, “of all the laws of Asgard, this is the one you _must not break_ ,” she said, stressing the last three words.

“This isn’t like a journey to Midgaurd where you shoot a little lightning and the mortals worship you like a god. This is Jotenheim,” Jason said, as Fandral.

“If the frost giants don’t kill you, your father will,” Kate added as Volstagg.

“My father,” Chris said, carefully enunciating the word in that still booming voice, “fought his way into Jotenheim, defeated their armies, and _took_ their casket. We would just be looking for answers.”

“It is forbidden!” Mel shouted, letting concern leak into her voice as she glared at the man.

He laughed. “My friends have you forgotten all that we have done together?” He pointed at Jason. “Who brought you into the sweet embrace of maidens across the nine realms?”

“You helped a little.”

“And who led you into the most glorious of battles?” he continued, looking now at Kate.

“You did,” she replied as Hogun.

“And to delicacies so succulent, you thought you’d died and gone to Valhalla?”

“You did,” Kate replied as Volstagg, cracking a smile at Chris’ gleeful acting.

Chris now turned to Mel, his face triumphant and proud all at once, grinning ear to ear. “And who proved wrong all who scoffed at the idea that a young maiden could be one of the fiercest warriors this realm has ever known?”

“I did,” Mel replied with vigor, cocking her head slightly and smirking at him.

Chris let his smile drop on cue. “True, but I supported you. My friends, trust me now: We _must_ do this.”

“I think that’s enough,” Branagh replied, smiling at them both.

Mel let the mask of character slip away and grinned, then turned to Chris. “You’re brilliant. That was incredible.”

“Thank you! You did great.” His actual voice was much less boom and might and more warmth and…Australian.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Banks. If we need you, we’ll call your representative for the callback in 48 hours.” Kate looked over her sheet. “Mmm. It was left blank, could you fill out that information for us please?”

“Shit, yes, sorry.” Mel took the paper and pen and winced at her own swear, hoping these weren’t a prudish bunch. For a moment, she hovered over the slot, then wrote down _Luke Windsor, Prosper PR,_ along with his number. “Again, I apologize,” she said as she handed it back and rose to her feet. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

“Thank you.” Branagh smiled. “Have a good evening.”

Mel only nodded before exiting, the same short woman from before holding the door open for her. As soon as the doors closed, the weight of audition stress dissipated, only to be immediately replaced by a new, somehow worse anxiety. She shook her head and called a cab, vowing to eat an entire tub of ice cream if that’s what it took to make herself feel somewhat bearable.

           

Mel jerked awake as her phone vibrated against the coffee table. Her back ached when she readjusted to pick it up, nearly tipping over the half-eaten container of orange chicken that had settled in her lap when she’d fallen asleep.

“Hello?” she asked, not even looking who had called.

“I told you so.”

She perked up immediately. “Luke?”

“They called me for an offer. They don’t even need a callback. They just want to hire you.”

Mel screamed. She couldn’t help it; a full on bouncing her legs, pumping her fists in the air scream.

“Wait until you hear the salary,” he added with a chuckle.

“I don’t even _care_ ,” she laughed. “Fuck, thank you so much, Luke.”

“So you’ll let me represent you?”

“Intel PR never got me anything like this, and that’s enough evidence for me. I’ll call them when we get off the phone. But,” she added, taking a pause, “as I told you in our first conversation, I’m not willing, or actually able, to pay you much more than I’m paying them.”

“I’m considering this an investment, on both our ends.”

“That’s fair.”

“It’ll be a few more weeks before they formally announce the cast, but they have a reading planned for next Thursday. So whatever you have that day, cancel it.”

She slid her laptop, which also rested on the coffee table, and pulled it her way while opening up her calendar. “I don’t have anything that day anyway, so we’re good.”

“Great! I’ll see you in a week then.”

“See you then.”

Even as the line clicked, it took her a moment to lower the phone, or move, or even think anything past disbelief and joy. _I got the fucking part. I got it._ I _got it._ Giggles erupted out of her, manic and high pitched, but fuck, she was so goddamn happy. She lowered the phone and clicked her best friend’s contact.

“Hello?”

“You’ll never fucking believe what just happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! An update in a decent amount of time!
> 
> As you can see, Jamie Alexander will not be making any appearances as Sif. And there are gonna be some other slight plot changes to Thor as well, but you'll see that soon enough!
> 
> And, I'm sorry there's no Tom in this one. He *will* be in the next one and all others after, I swears.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ^_^


	3. Readings and Greetings

**Luke Windsor**

_I’m pulling in now._

_Perfect! Just tell the guard at the gate. He’ll direct you_

_where to park, and which building we’re in._

_Okay. Are there a lot of people there?_

_A fair few, but don’t worry. You’re not late._

_You better not have lied to me about dress code, or_

_I’ll be criminally underdressed._

_Jeans and tshirt, Mel. I swear._

_Okay, okay. See you in a sec, I’m pulling in now._

 

Mel followed the instructions and parked in the lot adjacent to the studio where the reading would take place. The heat in LA was a scalding 84 degrees, even though it was December, and she felt every one of them as soon as she left the comfort of her car. The studio itself was still about a half mile walk from the lot, not to mention she still had to locate the appropriate door once there. Sighing, she suddenly felt grateful for her choice to wear flats, and began her slog to her destination.

She had barely gone ten feet before a golf cart pulled up next to her and stopped. The man in the driver’s seat was tall and burly, with short cropped hair and a big grin on his face. His eyes, like hers, were obscured by sunglasses. “Hello, there!” He had an accent he couldn’t quite place, but was somewhere between Scottish and Irish.

Mel laughed a little. “Hi.”

“You here for,” he leaned in closer and looked both ways, then lowered his glasses, revealing bright blue eyes, “hammer?” he mouthed.

She laughed wholeheartedly then. “Yes, I am in fact.”

“Well, not anymore, you’ve just failed the test!” He straightened and let his smile drop as he accelerated his cart. Mel felt her stomach drop and opened her mouth to protest, but just as quick, the man had stopped and reversed back to her, shit eating grin back on his face. “I’m joking. I am too! Hop on.”

She shook her head and chuckled as she made her way around the cart and settled into her seat. “You can’t just do that to someone, I nearly had a heart attack.”

“I humbly apologize,” he said with a chuckle, putting the cart in drive and moving them along. “Ray Stevenson, by the way. I’m playing Volstagg.”

“Mel Banks. I’m playing Sif.”

“No shit?” he glanced at her and smiled impossibly wider. “Well, we’ll be working together a lot, then.”

“Seems so.”

They pulled in and he parked the cart opposite a side door to the studio.

“Is this the right door?” she asked, sliding her glasses up, now that they were ensconced in shade between two studios.

Ray slid his glasses up as well and quirked an eyebrow. “Expecting a bit more grandeur?”

She blushed. “No, uh, I guess I just thought– I mean, it seems like–”

“I’m teasing you,” he enunciated, his accent thickening a bit as he did. “I just like side doors better. You can catch ‘em by surprise that way.” He held the door open to her.

“Catch who by surprise?” She packed her glasses away in favor of her prescriptions, fishing out the full script in the process as she followed him down a hallway, simply praying he knew where they were going.

“Anyone. Everyone. It’s never not fun.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she mused, shaking her head and smiling.

“Here we are.” He pushed open a door and winked at her as he slipped inside.

Mel took a shaking breath and ran a hand through her hair, straightened her glasses, and exhaled as she stepped in. The room was huge and bare. It had an industrial feeling with the exposed metal wall supports and scaffolding with white in between. The only decoration appeared to be signs indicating where the bathrooms were. The most noticeable aspect was four massive tables that formed a square in the center of the room. A snack and beverage table sat to the side, barely touched by the look of it, and other than that, the room was decorated by people.

Mel shifted from foot to foot, just a small amount, and looked around the room for what she hoped would be Luke Windsor. All she spotted and recognized was Chris Hemsworth, Kenneth Branagh, and the same producers from her audition. None of the other cast had been announced yet, so what faces were present, were not ones she overly knew except vaguely. She’d never been much for keeping up names with faces, despite going into fucking entertainment as a profession.

Going in blind, she approached the table, which had name placards next to each seat, and searched for hers. She blushed further when she saw how close to the head of the table her seat was arranged. She was sitting with Rene Russo to her left and Ray on her right. As she began laying her things near her seat, she heard her name called.

When she straightened, a blonde man slightly taller than her in a sweater and slacks was grinning as he approached. “Mel! It’s so good to finally meet in person.”

She shook his outstretched hand and narrowed her eyes. “Luke?”

“The one and only.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and placed her hand on her chest. “Oh, thank god, that could have been dreadfully embarrassing.”

Luke threw his head back in a laugh. “No, it’s just me. How are doing?”

“Honestly? I feel nauseous.”

“Don’t be. This is just a reading. You’ll do bunches of these before they even start filming.”

“I know that, it’s just,” she swallowed, “there are people with _real_ names here, you know?”

He smirked. “Isn’t your name real?”

She lightly slapped his arm. “You know damn well what I meant.”

“Yes, and I know they’re in good company with you here.”

Mel smiled as she shook her head and ran both hands through her hair. “Well, you’re certainly more of a flatterer than George was.”

“I hope George is your old rep, and not some boyfriend you’re projecting…”

“Of course he is.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Ah, but how are the nerves now?”

At first, she was going to roll her eyes again, but upon inventory of herself, she could tell she was less tense, noticeably so, and her hands weren’t shaking. “Dammit.”

“Get used to it,” he said with a smirk. Something over her shoulder caught his eye and he waved them over. “Perfect timing. I’d love to introduce you to my other client in this film.”

Mel turned on her friendliest face to meet whatever stranger headed their way, but as soon as he moved into her line of vision, her mouth dropped open and her face fell slack. His in turn went from smiling at Luke to doing much the same as soon as his eyes met hers.

“Tom.”

“Mel.”

After a beat of silence and a frown; “You two know each other?”

“We graduated together from the Royal Academy,” Mel answered, not tearing her eyes off him. He was looking…unfortunately handsome. In a room full of people dressed casually, he still somehow managed to stand out in a navy blue quarter sleeve shirt and tan denim, and still, for some reason, wearing his mahogany oxfords. His eyes were the same shade of piercing blue, his blonde curls still unkempt in that unreasonably adorable way. And then he smiled, and she felt herself smile in return without even thinking, her insides quickly melting and reforming and repeating the process the longer he looked at her.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Tom said with a laugh, and before another pause could overtake the trio, he leaned down and pulled her tight in a hug.

Mel let out something between a gasp and a laugh and hugged him back. “Can’t believe I got the part? Rude.”

He pulled back and kept both hands on her arms – god, had they always been so big? – and eyed her over. “You know what I meant. I’m so happy about this! You look incredible. It’s so wonderful to see you. And now we’ll be working together!”

His enthusiasm was impossible to ignore. Mel tucked some hair behind her ear and hoped her blush didn’t show. “It’s great to see you too, Tom.”

“And here I was only hoping you two would get along,” Luke mused, suddenly reminding Mel that he stood next to their reunion.

“To be fair, you never mentioned Tom when you were name dropping whilst trying to convince me to ditch my old PR rep.”

Tom shot Luke an incredulous look, but Mel could see it was laced in good humor, and apparently he could too, because he laughed and glanced between the two of them with a sparkle in his eyes.

“God, I’m really going to have my hands full between the two of you, aren’t I?”

“Well, I certainly doubt _Emma Watson_ will ever be as obnoxious as him.”

“Or her,” Tom fired back, indicating Mel with a nod and then grinning like a fool.

“Christ.” Luke rolled his eyes and stuffed both hands in his pockets. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it, then.”

Mel leaned against her chair, crossed her arms, and smiled up at her old friend. “What are the fucking odds.” It wasn’t really a question, but she felt the need to say it. “What role are you, then?”

“Loki of Asgard,” he said with a dip of his head and a smirk.

“Well, shit,” she laughed. “You would get one of the leads.”

“I feel incredibly lucky. Luke is incredible for getting me the audition in the first place.”

“He is. You know he gave me the lead on the part before I even agreed to be his client?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. I only signed on with him last week. My audition was two weeks ago.”

“That cheeky bastard.” Tom buried his hands in his pockets, but he was still grinning ear to ear and hadn’t looked away from her. “He is…tenacious.”

“Yes. But I’m glad he was. It certainly proved his abilities.”

“Indeed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What role did you get?”

“I’m playing Lady Sif.” She arched her brow and moved her shoulders in a shimmy, shimmy motion.

It was Tom’s turn to laugh. “I’m not surprised. You’re well suited for that role.”

Mel pressed her tongue into her cheek to fight her grin, unsuccessfully, and shook her head. “Still so mouthy. How am I supposed to deal with this kind of nuisance?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” He winked at her, then his face softened beyond the surface joy that came from such trivial flirting. His eyes were doing that _thing_ that she remembered and it took everything in her not to let her expression blanch. “I really am glad to see you, Mel. It’s been way too long.”

“It has,” she nodded, rubbing one of her arms and looking at the floor for a moment. She remembered all too well her own words to him, promises of keeping in contact. It wasn’t that neither of them tried. She knew that. But there were timezones and schedules and jobs to account for, and over the course of it, at least she, stopped bothering. It had been years since they’d last exchanged a text. She wasn’t even sure if his number was the same. “That’s partially my fault. I–”

“The fault equally lies with me.” He wasn’t smiling anymore. He was doing that _thing_ even more intensely now, the thing where she was sure he was fully present, that he was fully serious and honest, all while imploring her for her attention. It was overwhelming, at the very least, and something altogether undefinable at most. “I could have easily reached out, too.”

“It’s fine, Tom.” She smiled. “You’ve been busy. I’ve kept up with you in the news. I’m so glad you’ve been doing so well.”

“I’ve kept up with you, too,” he added, his eyes lighting up, but at that she interrupted him with a laugh.

“I shudder to think. I’ve been - como se dice? - struggling.”

“Oh, don’t be so dishonest. I’ve watched your performances, dear.”

“Don’t start ‘dearing’ me,” she said, wagging a finger. “We both know my career hasn’t exactly had the grand trajectory I talked a big game about in school. There’s no shame in that. It’s just honest.” Hollywood was built of everyone analyzing everyone’s accomplishments and throwing them together to see who won the piss contest. She figured out early, soon after arriving, there was little point in participating, especially as a no one like herself.

He quirked his head and gave her that smirk that she recognized for the trouble it was. “Well. Even so, I imagine it’s going to go in a different direction now. Marvel is no small thing.”

“That’s the dream,” she sighed. “Dress me up as a viking goddess for a few hours then everyone will hire me.”

Tom laughed, hearty and loud enough that a few people turned to look with varying degrees of observation on their faces. He didn’t even notice them.

“Oh, I missed you, Mel. I can’t even…begin to explain it. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Mel blushed, and before she had a chance to fumble out a mess of a response, Branagh cleared his throat next to his seat at the head table. “I believe everyone is here? If you could all find your seats please.”

“Guess it’s time to work.” She pulled out her chair and smiled at him. “Good luck.”

He reached out, squeezed her arm for a moment, and beamed. “You too.”

Mel quickly righted herself in her seat and began straightening out her script. The shuffle of movement offered her a moment to breathe, to collect herself. Tom could be as handsome as he liked, but this was still a job, and one she was determined _not_ to fuck up. A glance around the tables made the nerves Luke had quelled rise again. Anthony Hopkins, Natalie Portman, Stellan Skarsgard, Kenneth Branagh, and probably more that she just couldn’t place, arranged themselves at their assigned seats. It was a lot of fame in one room, a lot of incredible talent, and she felt minuscule in comparison.

“Hi.” She blinked and looked to her left. A woman who looked to be in her early sixties was smiling at her and extending a hand. “I’m Rene.”

“Mel.” She took her hand and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re playing Frigga, right?”

“Making assumptions on my age already, are we?” Rene arched a brow and smirked.

“Oh, god, no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply–”

Rene laughed and rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Relax dear, I was only teasing.”

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” Mel shoved some hair behind her ear and exhaled heavily. “I’m– well, never mind,” she said with a shake of her head as she turned back to her script.

“Is this your first major role?” she asked with a light chuckle in the words.

Mel blushed and glanced at her with a sheepish smile. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only slightly, but don’t fret. It’s only a reading. No one here, regardless of their _noteworthy_ careers, knows what they’re doing. We’re all here to figure it out together.”

She smiled wider at that. “You mean that?”

“Of course.”

Mel was stopped from making further conversation by Ray joining on her right, laughing at something another actor had said on their way to their seat. When he straightened his script and glanced at her, his smile grew even wider.

“Well, look at that. I guess we’re seat buddies in this.”

“Seems so,” she said with a laugh, unable to shake herself of the joyous energy he exuded. “Have you read over it yet?”

“Here and there, mostly my own parts though. I like to be a bit surprised at these things.” He winked. “We are about to spend three months with the same damn story, after all. Might as well enjoy it at least a few times.”

“Fair point.” She pulled out a pencil and highlighter. In her case, she had read the script ten times already in the three days since receiving it. Not that she was about to give away _that_ tidbit so easily.

“Alright,” Branagh said in a loud voice as he stood, effectively allowing others to let their conversations die off. “Welcome, all of you, to Thor. Many of you are familiar with Marvel’s associated comics regarding this story, this character, but I look forward to getting to know all of you and working together to tell _this_ story.

Some of you have been through this before, while for others it is the first time working on a production to this scale. I want to encourage you all to test out any ideas you have today, however farfetched. Let your characters’ family ties, friendships, and romantic interests inform even the smallest parts of your performances. Your characters are what will make this story incredible.” He sat down and organized his own area, then smiled at all of them. “We will go around the table and introduce ourselves and our roles, then get into the reading.”

The introductions went smoothly, followed by the beginning of the reading, then most of the middle ran the same, but was quickly ruined by the realization that struck Mel the moment she read her next line and realized her fate for the foreseeable months.

“The Warriors Three and Lady Sif stand to leave,” read Marie. “While Fandrul, Hogun, and Volstagg walk out of the room, Sif appears to follow, but turns back and remains to face Loki again.”

“What are you doing?” Mel asked, keeping her face fixed with a scowl, but softening her gaze slightly.

Tom pursed his lips at her, his own eyes hardening as he looked away from the script. “My job.”

“Your job?”

“Sif approaches the dais and rises slowly as she speaks, not breaking eye contact with Loki,” Marie interrupted.

“Your job is to protect the realm. Your brother would be a help to us. You know this.”

“Loki says nothing and continues to glare at her.”

“I ask again, what are you doing?”

“Protecting. The realm,” Tom spat back, venom in his eyes and words. “I do not need a simple warrior’s criticism regarding my methods.”

“Sif stumbles back, one foot on the level with Loki, and one on the step below. Her features are pained for only a moment before she hardens them.”

“Forgive me, my king,” Mel said, allowing bile into her tone. “I had no idea the scope of your opinion of me. I will take my leave.”

“Sif leaves without a backward glance. To the audience, Loki’s face softens. He looks almost like he might stop her, but he doesn’t.”

The scenes continued, the next one not involving either of them. She breathed a sigh of – relief? exhaustion? something else? – something, and glanced at Tom. He was already looking at her, and giving her that secret soft smile that usually stayed reserved for other occasions. She returned it and glanced back at her script to follow along, hoping he was far enough away that he couldn’t pick up on her tells. He was always infuriatingly good at that.

When the reading ended, Branagh lead a discussion regarding places he thought worked really well, and what didn’t, and even opened it up to her co-stars to share what they particularly liked or enjoyed. It was just over four hours before they ended the reading, scheduling another two to occur over the course of the weekend.

“That went pretty well, don’t you think?” Ray asked as he rose.

“Yeah.” She stowed her script, now marred with notes everywhere, and various writing utensils in her bag, then slid it over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m excited. It seems pretty extensive already, but I guess I should’ve expected that.”

“Ah. Are you a big Marvel fan?” He smirked at her.

“I think a regular level of ‘fan,’ sure,” she chuckled. “You?”

“I’m a fan of anything that pays me this well.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she slid her chair into its original position, unable to shake the thought that he had been incredibly well cast. “I suppose that tracks.”

They had both begun to make their way to the door, Ray looking as if he were about to say something else, when they were interrupted.

“Mel, do you have a moment?”

Tom was behind her. She gulped, and glanced back at Ray. “I’ll see you later, then.” He waved to them both and made his exit. Mel walked over to Tom, and tried not to think about the way her palms were sweating. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if we could go get dinner?” It was a question, but it held an air of a statement, and assumption of her answer. She knew that should probably aggravate her, but his eyes were shining while he smiled at her.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and allowed him a half smile. “It’s nearly nine, Tom. I’m exhausted. You couldn’t keep me from my bed if you tried.”

He chuckled and pressed his tongue into his cheek. He was holding back a snarky comment, she could tell, and she nearly giggled at the realization. “Have you gotten so boring in your old age? Going to bed just after nine? You’re not even 30!”

Mel did laugh then, and shook her head. “Nice bait, but I’m harder to catch than that.” She turned to the exit and waved over her shoulder. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Oh, now, hang on.” He grabbed her wrist as she was halfway out the door.

Immediately, her throat tightened and a shiver ran up her spine. With a snap of her head toward him, she yanked her hand out of his, albeit loose, grasp and stepped back from him. His face shifted when he caught her reaction, going from jovial to confused and apologetic in a moment.

“Mel, I apologize.” He held both his hands up and straightened. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” Even so, she rubbed her wrist where he grabbed her, feeling an altogether different burn than the one she’d felt earlier from his touch. “I’m fine.” She tried to laugh, but it wavered as it left her. “I really can’t do dinner tonight, Tom. I’m sorry. But maybe another time?”

His smile was sympathetic, and it made her nauseous. She didn’t need sympathy. “Of course. I’ll hold you to it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” And before he could say anything else, or she could let something slip, she made her escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyyy look who it is! Look at the fun! The ~drama~! 
> 
> Ha, anyway, now you can see the adjustment I made to Lady Sif. In this story, she's into Loki, not Thor. Because this is my sandbox and the rules don't matter haha. I hope you're enjoying it so far! You're a real angel for coming along on this ride with me.
> 
> Any comments/kudos/what-have-yous are always appreciated <3


	4. Unreadable

Against all odds, Mel was able to avoid a one-on-one dinner with Tom. There were times when the cast went out together, but those were easier to manage. She knew Tom to be a fairly private person on most fronts, and trusted he wouldn’t bring up anything in a group setting.

Though, _what_ she was afraid of him bringing up, she could barely tell. By this point, most of the cast had caught on that they knew each other from school, because try as she might, there was an ease she felt around him. It was such a simple thing to throw a barbed line his way and wait for the retaliation that came with a loaded smirk. Even acting with him was easy, for the most part. So what _was_ she scared of? Any time she was close to identifying it, she decided she’d rather not, and locked it away.

They were on week two of full cast readings. After this week would be a week “off” that was filled with fittings and makeup tests, and then there was the holiday (which they were graciously being given), and then they were jumping straight into filming at the top of January. Ruminate as she might, she prayed her own…weirdness had mostly gone unnoticed in the whirlwind of the job.

She walked into the reading room while finishing a text to her mom and set her things down in her seat on autopilot. When she stowed the phone as well, she noticed that the room was mostly empty, with only Chris and Natalie at a table in a corner discussing a script between themselves, and Kenneth and some producers sitting at the head of the main table like normal.

And of course, Tom, sitting next to them.

“Mel!” Kenneth grinned and stood to greet her with a handshake.

“Hey… Um, is there something I missed?” She gestured around the empty room.

“Ah, sorry, I must have missed getting the memo to you. I decided to take the day to workshop some of the relationships, specifically the romantic ones. Obviously, what you and Tom are doing bears a bit of subtlety, but there’s still something to it that I think has been somewhat lacking. Almost like you’re both holding something back.”

Mel kept her face carefully quizzical, and prayed to whatever god might exist that her face stayed the same color. “Oh.”

“What?” Tom interjected.

“It’s nothing too serious.” Kenneth rested his finger tips on a script in front of him and had his other hand in his pocket as he gave them both a smile. “I just know you both to be capable of _more_ , and I want to see that.” After what felt like a lengthy pause, he gestured out the door Mel had just walked through. “I’ve reserved a few of the rooms in the hall there to allow for privacy. Take your scripts with you and I’ll check in in a few hours.” With that he sat down and turned to the producers, effectively dismissing them.

Mel only raised her eyebrows, inhaled once, and turned to grab her bag from her seat. “Well, I guess we should…do that then.”

“Right.” Tom was still frowning at their director, who was not acknowledging them in the slightest, but went and grabbed his things regardless. When he finally looked at her, he was still disgruntled. “Lead the way.”

So she did. Out into the hall and into an empty room that housed a card table, a few chairs, and a water jug. “I suppose here?” She placed her bag on the table and shrugged a shoulder at him.

“I suppose,” he huffed, arranging himself opposite her. “It all feels rather demeaning though.”

“Then you didn’t put him up to this?” she asked with a smirk as she sat down and pulled out her script.

“Excuse me?”

She shrugged and got her pens out. “Listen, I know you both worked together on Wallander. You know _I_ have been avoiding that dinner. I know _you_ can be a real schemer when you set your mind to it.” She threw a hand up. “Who’s to say?”

Now his frown was truly aimed at her. He leaned forward over the table, hands slightly curled. “You _really_ think that I would manipulate you like that?”

She leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow, trying not to let her discomfort at his shift in position show. “Tom, before this we’ve barely spoken in over five years. I have no idea who you are, and you have no idea who I am. I try not to have my expectations high. It saves me the disappointment.”

He shook his head and leaned back again, one hand falling off the table as he did. “I don’t remember you being quite so cynical in school.”

The words stung, but she swallowed back her retort. “Well. Like I said, we’ve both probably changed a lot, for better or worse.”

There was a tense silence as Tom frowned at the floor and she tapped lightly against her script. As it bore on, and her anxiety churned tighter in her chest, she almost wanted to chuckle to herself. It had never been more abundantly clear what she was afraid of happening.

“I’m sorry.”

She blinked up at him. He was leaning forward again, his shoulders slumped, and running a hand over his face. “That was harsh, what I said. You’re right. It’s been…years. We’re different people now.” He looked up at her, now with that same, sincere, piercing _look_. “But I can promise you this, Michelle, I did not speak to him about this in any way. I would never do something so…passive aggressive. I would never try to manipulate you like that.”

Mel swallowed and forced out a smirk she hoped reached her eyes and hid how heavily the words rested on her. “Those are big promises, old man.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know.” She sighed and broke the look they shared, twiddling her fingers around the pen and glancing around the empty room before looking at him again. “I believe you, honestly. Let’s just,” another sigh, “let’s just move on, alright?” She flipped open her script and looked away.

“Alright.” He reached out and placed his hand over hers. The move was quick and the touch was soft, and still it startled her enough to feel the fear before the heat. Her head snapped up, and he was only still looking at her _that way_ , only now with a dash of confusion at her reaction. “I really do apologize, Mel.”

“It’s fine. We’re fine.” She pulled her hand out from under his and swallowed. “Really, I mean it.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. She shoved some hair behind her ear in response to the scrutiny, and attempted to plead with her eyes that he not continue, that he do anything but ask her why.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” The air still tickled against her skin with tension for too long. She shook her head and straightened. “So, I guess we should fix our…whatever seems to be wrong with this chemistry right?”

Tom pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair while he held her gaze. “Why are you changing the subject?”

“I’m not? That’s literally why we were sent into actor time out.”

He shook his head and sat up straight again. His blonde curls were short and unruly as ever, becoming even more so when he shook his head. “Listen, if this is to work, we need to both be honest with each other. Truly and actually. In a way neither of us have been yet since working on this.” He reached a hand forward again, this time looking at her as his hand hovered over hers. She nodded, grateful for the consideration, and even let herself enjoy the warmth of his touch this time. “Let’s be honest then.” He smiled. “God knows, you never held back on me in school.”

Mel smiled and closed her eyes for a moment as she tipped her head to the ceiling. She still hadn’t moved her hand since he put his on hers. “I don’t know what you want from me, Tom.”

“I don’t know what you want from me either. That’s half the problem,” he chuckled.

She looked at him again, tongue pressed against her bottom lip to suppress her smile. “What do you want from _me_ , Thomas?”

“A date.”

She laughed. It was the only defense against the rising tightness in her chest. “Seriously?”

“Why would that be funny?”

“Why would that–?” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Why would you want a date with _me_ , Tom? That’s what’s funny. This isn’t like school. We already agreed we’re different people. And now, on top of that, we’re colleagues. And maybe this isn’t your first big opportunity, but it _is_ for me, and I’m not going to muck it up for the sake of a school girl crush!” The silence that followed her rant buzzed against her skin, and was broken only by her panting breath. She couldn’t herself to look at him.

After too long, Tom squeezed her hand. When she looked up, he was smiling. “You have a crush on me?”

Mel yanked her hand back from him with a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly as she went. “You are such a fucking prat sometimes.” She stood and walked over to the water cooler. Her mouth was too dry.

She turned around, sipping her water slowly as if it could shield her from further questioning, only to find him standing too, and very close.

“Uhh…”

He smirked, indicating the cooler behind her. Which she was currently blocking. “Do you mind?”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, yeah.” She stepped to the side quickly to allow him access, and in turn trapped herself between the table, the cooler, and him.

In the confusion earlier, she hadn’t really noticed much about Tom outside of his mood. Now, as he chuckled at her flustered behavior and leaned down for his own drink, she couldn’t help but notice the way the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up just below his elbows, exposing his forearms in such a way that should not have been as attractive as it was. Or the way his black pants settled against his hips in a slimming but relaxed-enough sort or fit. Or how she could smell his cologne at this distance, the lofty scent of iris and lemon verbena nearly driving her to the point where she wanted to close her eyes and just…rest in it.

Tom straightened and held her gaze as he sipped his drink, his other hand resting all too casually in his pocket. Mel, for her part, refused to break the look and continued sipping her own. By the time the both finished their cups, she was sure the heat in her cheeks was more than evident, and prayed he couldn’t see how shallow her breathing had gotten as she tried to keep a grip on her ridiculous body and its absurd reactions.

She set her empty cup down and he followed suit, and still they held this…look. It was infuriating. He shouldn’t be allowed to do that. Looking like that and looking at her in combination. Absolutely cheating.

“I have a proposition.”

“Oh, I bet you do.”

He didn’t bite, and instead took a small step forward. He was just inches away now.

“You and I clearly have…something, whatever it might be. And sure, now we’ve talked about it, but I feel like if we leave it there it would just exacerbate the issue itself.”

“And what issue is that?” Try as she might to hold back, a smug, challenging tone permeated the question.

“That there’s something blocking us from giving our best performance, which is something neither of us want.”

She pressed her tongue against her lower teeth, feeling a frown form as she did. “You’ve got me there, Hiddleston. So what’s the solution?”

“It’s simple.” He held his hand out near her cheek and looked at her, waiting until she nodded slightly to push her hair behind her ear and graze his thumb across her cheek. “We have a break coming up. We should get together, and you can call it what you like, let things play out however they naturally do, and we can leave it there. Settled and finished.”

“Mmm, sounds pretty idealistic to me.” She felt a daring streak rise in her chest and turned, pressing a small kiss against his thumb while he pulled it away, and enjoying the way it made his eyes widen infinitesimally. “What if it leads to nothing at all?”

“Then that’s what it is.” He pushed his breath out through his teeth. “And at least we’ll know.”

She mulled it over in her head for a moment, more to drive him mad than anything, then smiled and nodded her head. She reached up and moved some of his curls out of his eyes, letting her fingers trace lightly against his skin. “Alright. You have a deal.”

“Mmm.” Tom didn’t even look like he’d heard her. He placed a hand on her cheek again and stared at her, implored her. She only answered by holding his look and pressing herself closer to him, letting her hand settle on his hip.

That was all it took. Then his mouth was on hers, crashing and pulling against her with a hunger she didn’t remember him having before. But then again, they _were_ different now. Now, he tugged on her hair, pulling a gasp from her, and used the opportunity to slide his tongue against hers. She moaned on contact, gripping the small of his back pulling at the front of his shirt with her other hand. The resulting feeling of the growing hardness she felt pressed against her leg made her smile into the kiss just before breaking it.

“Tom,” she panted.

“I know, I know.” He leaned in and pressed another, sneaking peck to her lips, then pulled back from her and straightened his shirt. “I’ll text you the details over break.”

“Sounds fine,” she laughed, still feeling breathless and a bit dizzy.

“I guess we should work.” He gave her a sheepish smile and ran a hand through his hair.

“We should.” She sighed with a smile and sat down again. “We should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, helloooooo!
> 
> Hey, look! The dinguses finally kissed! What could possibly go wrong from here! Ha haha haa
> 
> Seriously, this chapter was really fun to write once I wrastled it into submission. I hope you enjoy it too! ^_^
> 
> Any comments/kudos/what-have-yous are appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You are a beam of light in this dark and dreary universe.
> 
> Any comments/kudos/what-have-yous are appreciated <3


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